


Fanfiction #1: RusAme Nationverse; Setting: Leningrad; Characters: Russia, America; Genre: Historical Romance

by Deputy Commissioner Gleb Vaganov (StarlightOnInk)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Crack, M/M, Not to be taken seriously, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 19:51:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12824862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightOnInk/pseuds/Deputy%20Commissioner%20Gleb%20Vaganov
Summary: It is the day everyone has eagerly awaited: the union between Soviet Russia, and the United States of America! Celebrate our joy with us through this historical romance capturing a moment between the people's pride and glory, Russia, and his lover, America.





	Fanfiction #1: RusAme Nationverse; Setting: Leningrad; Characters: Russia, America; Genre: Historical Romance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vaecordia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vaecordia/gifts).



Time could topple many things, but it would never extinguish the burning flame that was the the United State’s love for the Russian Federative Socialist Republic. It was in on the streets of the people's proud Leningrad that America based with mingled awe, admiration, and devotion at the man he loved and wished to emulate in every conceivable way. His Russian boyfriend, ever gracious and patient, was equally ready and willing to help America do just that.

Through kisses and reading from Pravda, the voice of the Russian people!

“I am very proud of you, America,” Russia said encouragingly, his smile the light of an entire union of greatness.

“I worked hard for you to be,” America replied evenly, his own smile rather wry, but the tenderness never wavered from his eyes. That same look was reflected in the polished Hero of the Soviet Union medal upon Russia's chest. America wore less decoration upon his person, preferring to emulate the humility of the workers before their great revolution.

Suddenly, something flashed in America's eyes. He drew closer, fingertips grazing the spotless medal of such honor and valor. Others might have reprimanded the other country for touching it with his unworthy hands, but Russia was gracious and allowed it to happen.

“Vanya.” Such a term of familiarity, for one to use a Russian’s diminutive. It was a mark of how far they had come from Comrade Russia and Comrade America. “I don't want to wait anymore. I want to be part of your great union now. I want to be part of the Soviet Union.”

Russia smiled handsomely, the look of amusement suiting his pale, chiseled features well. “My little convert is impatient,” he teased, though always within the limits of what America could take. Lips pursed, Russia’s gazed turned thoughtful before at last he nodded. “Yes, I agree. It is time.”

America could not contain his euphoria as he threw his arms around Russia’s strong, broad shoulders, chapped lips pressed to Russia’s smooth cheek in gratitude.

Russia laughter a musical laugh, a deep rumble like the tanks of the Red Army as they converged upon the enemy to the Motherland. “Not here, now!” he reminded his silly lover. In one seamless motion he swept America off his feet, the effort not tiring him in the slightest. “My kommunalka is empty tonight. We shall finalize everything there.” Normally Russia shared the space with half a dozen other good and loyal Russians, but tonight they were all out respectfully celebrating the absorption of America in moderation.

America was practically purring by the time they arrived, feeling quite warm against the noble chill of the Russian land, for Russia's own warmth was a beacon to all who let themselves embrace it.

Russia had barely gently deposited America on a kitchen chair when the other leapt up and scrambled onto the bed. There he lay, sprawled amidst the sheets, once so pristinely made, now ruffled beneath his eager body. Russia looked on with the kind of potent love only a citizen of the Soviet Union could experience, the kind that soon America would know the full extent of. True to his word, Russia did not keep his lover waiting- how could he, when the other looked so desperate to be fully with Russia?

Theirs was a union of inevitability, but it was no less a union born out of love-

For Russia.

The End

[Author’s Note: I first and foremost wish to give a special thank you to my father, without whom this fanfiction and indeed the future of Russia, would not exist. I also wish to extend a word of acknowledgement to the little street sweeper, An- well, to write her name properly as I know it would degrade from the integrity and professionalism of this work. I invite all of you readers to submit feedback so future works may build upon your thoughts! Come, and share free of worry of punishment for what you say. All thoughts are welcome here.

Thank you for reading, comrades. Good day to you all.]

Epilogue

Russia stared at the computer screen. "I did not know you read fan-written fictional stories."

"Yikes- they're called fanfiction, you geezer." America ruffled Russia's hair with a nervous laugh.

"That is fine." Russia scrolled further down the page. "But what does this little hesrt at the bottom mean? It is highlighted."

America suddenly remembered an appointment he needed to attend across the country.

**Author's Note:**

> REAL Author's Notes: do NOT take a word of this seriously for a SECOND. This is entirely crack, written from the perspective of Gleb Vaganov, a character from Anastasia on Broadway. Vaecordia and I were saying how "Oh, one of his song lyrics is 'soon it will be spring.' He's waiting for spring, he ships rusame." But he's such a revolution fanboy trash bag, what oh what would any of his fanfics look like? A mix of stiff patriotism and borderline shipping Russia with himself.
> 
> Feedback...not necessary. This is a trying moment in my writing career, but I honest to god had a blast writing this.


End file.
